Sneer

She was everything that gentlemen tried to avoid: opinionated, loud, harsh, crude, and unkempt. She lived on her own without father or husband, used vulgar words. She dared to wear men’s trousers. He had once witnessed her deliberately strip down to her delicates and go swimming in the river amidst the din of the city. Women would sneer at her as she passed by, tongues wagging in vicious whispers as the future spinster strolled down the road with not a care in the world, and men pretended to be interested in their shoes when she looked their way.

Alexia Corinne Wilhelm was born noble and had earned a label lower than harlot.

Shrew.

As far as James Merrinot could tell, she rather enjoyed the title. Or maybe it was just a strange twitch that made her lips turn up at the corners whenever someone used the word. He supposed it was better than ‘bitch’, for he had seen her become physically violent over that term (Cosette Winter’s face being jammed into the mud by Alexia’s heeled boot had been a sight. ‘Don’t dare to lower such magnificent creatures to our level, Etti. A dog’s lineage is far more noble than your black whore’s blood’). No one had dared to utter the word in Alexia’s presence since.

It was really quite facinating.

“What are you looking at that’s so–Again, Jim? She’ll see you if you keep staring like that.” Edward all but buried his face in his book, the two men sitting on a bench in one of the wide alleys of the park. She was visible beyond a hedge, just around a bend in the path. Russet hair caught and jumped in the breeze, unbound and streaming out behind her like a horse’s mane. It captivated him.

Women were stuffy: hair alway neat and composed, voices soft, never daring to look a man in the face. They wore long gowns and tight bodices that showed nothing of their actual figures, and they pretended to be demure when most were venemous harpies. There was something novel and enchanting about a woman who was willing to knee a man in the groin when he subtly propositioned her (poor Cal Tetherson, he’d never have children now).

“Really, Jim, you shouldn’t–”

“Fine day, isn’t it, Alexia?”

Cool brown eyes settled upon him without pretense. She was wearing a man’s shirt, belted at the waist and laid over dark pants tucked into knee-high riding boots. He thought her lovely as her hair settled around her face in an ethereal halo that caught the sunlight.

Unlike the women of her birth, she did not sneer or force a smile. James watched her and Alexia watched him back.

And then, “Yes, lovely. Perhaps choice for a picnic. Good day, gentlemen.”

Though loud and territorial, James had always thought shrews to be quite adorable. He was not disappointed.

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~ by eeratka on January 27, 2011.